


The One Where Peeves Isn't That Bad

by Imjustonegal66



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Harry is a Good Friend, Hermione is a Good Friend, Hermione is angry at Harry's abusers, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Obligatory fuck JK Rowling as a transwoman, Physical Abuse, psychological abuse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-10
Updated: 2020-08-10
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:22:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,173
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25821334
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Imjustonegal66/pseuds/Imjustonegal66
Summary: Peeves is known for being a troublemaker. He just can't bring himself to harm the raven haired boy, or the bushy haired girl that accompanies him, when he stumbles upon them talking.
Relationships: Harry Potter and Peeves, Harry Potter/Hermione Granger
Comments: 4
Kudos: 92





	The One Where Peeves Isn't That Bad

**Author's Note:**

> Peeves is a prankster, nothing more. It makes him rather 2-Dimensional. What if there was more to his character? What if he chose his targets? Why does he do what he does?
> 
> Also, joining the fics where Harry gets help for his abuse.

Peeves floated through the halls, his translucent form vanishing through the walls. He was looking for someone to mess with. Maybe that blond boy in Slytherin would do. He just wouldn't stop, so Peeves would keep teaching his lessons.

Peeves sighed. Eternity got boring fast, so Peeves kept himself busy. It was too bleak in this castle for his tastes, so why not have some fun? Harmless pranks on the students, the first month of hazing for the first years.

He made sure to avoid pranking certain students. Being a lawyer in his old life, he keenly noted the signs of abuse in some of the children that walked the halls. He wished the teachers would take notice. No such luck.

So he talked with them. When he found those students alone and distraught, he sat with them, just letting them cry it out. He wished he could give hugs. Oh Merlin, how he missed hugs.

When one Harry Potter joined Hogwarts, of course he noticed the whispering, the stares. The boy barely seemed to know what he was doing, as if he'd been thrown in keister over heels. He was strung along, confused for a majority of his first years, without proper guidance. He blamed the old coot they called a Headmaster. Merlin's saggy balls, those garish robes of his gave him headaches.

He noticed the hunched shoulders, the hesitance to ask questions, the flinching away whenever someone made any sudden moves. And to that, he noticed the bushy haired girl that took note of Harry's mannerisms.

In the girl, he saw an intelligent being that had been struck down constantly for her love for books. Her willingness to share facts with others from the texts she'd read. She didn't want anyone to feel left out. She wanted to be a part of a group. He certainly saw how efficiently she took care of herself, packing food for herself, making sure she was organised, checking her pockets, regulating her time.

Hermione Granger. That was her name. He saw how their soulmarks matched, how their bond solidified during their first year.

He saw how the duo dealt with the redheaded Weasley family. The twins he didn't mind that much. That Percival boy was far too weak-minded for his liking. The Ginevra girl was a mindless fangirl who pretended she knew Harry after barely spending time with him. Her attempts to make him jealous fell on deaf ears, much to Peeves' cackling amusement. He saw how the Ginevra girl lost her temper, casting spells with no afterthought for her actions. When she was questioned on her obsession, the poor Creevey boys were in the Hospital Wing for a week.

The youngest Weasley boy needed help. He had been through much in the years. The trauma his older brothers had inflicted on him left him with an inferiority complex. It was the few times he was disappointed in the twins. One never uses fear against another in their family when they don't deserve it. He saw how the jealousy would spark, how the boy struggled to keep it down.

Peeves sought young Ronald out quite a bit. Ronald worried his anger would get the better of him, and that he'd separate himself from his best friends. Peeves simply gave him some advice. "Anger is like a dam. Over time, the water builds, until it breaks. Anger is regulated, and controlled, like the pumps those Muggles are so fond of. Use your anger to confront yourself. Strive to become better. Your brothers tore you down. They were wrong to do so, but I have faith that you are a good person. Believe in yourself."

Peeves glided joyfully along the corridors, stopping when he heard hushed whispering. "- I wish Dumbledore would do something about this Harry! You've told him again and again how those awful relatives of yours beat you to within an inch of your life, and yet he insists you need to keep going back! I've read every book in the Library, and in no book does it mention blood warding. I don't even believe it exists!" A feminine voice hurried out, rustling something as Harry's familiar voice retorted. "You don't truly think he cares does he? He just wants a- OW bloody hell 'Mione! He just wants a weapon." Harry hissed in pain, Peeves zipping through the walls.

He never truly felt rage until he saw poor Harry's state. The welts and gashes on his back bled heavily, and Peeves could swear he saw the indent of a scalding frying pan seared into the boy's torso. _Glamours. You poor boy._ Hermione was wrapping his arm, which had a long split running down his forearm, like a belt whip across his arm, and on his biceps, Peeves could make out the words _freak, useless,_ and _unnatural._ If Peeves could have been sick, he no doubt would have lost his lunch. The boy had built up some muscle, but he could see his ribs poking out from his chest, the swollen bruise on his cheek.

"Oh, Peeves!" Hermione cried out, blocking Harry with her body. Peeves let out a breath as Harry grabbed her shoulder. "It's alright, Mione." He whispered, though audible to Peeves. "Dumbledore did **nothing?** " Peeves swore he'd haunt that man for the rest of his life. Hermione scoffs. "Peeves, I lost all respect for these frauds that call themselves teachers during the second year incident. They can't even keep their own students safe. This isn't a school, it's an asylum." She cursed, taking some stitches from a medical pack.

Harry's eyes dilated, shoulders rising. He was panicking. Hermione took one look at him, putting the needle down. "Okay. Harry, please? I promise I'll do it as quick as I can." Peeves overlooked Harry breathing heavily, reaching out his hand to place over Harry's. The ravenette shivered, squeezing his eyes shut. "Do it."

Soon, Harry's wounds had been cleaned and closed, with his shirt back on. "Why not go to the Infirmary?" Peeves questions. Harry winces, shifting around. "Because every time it's brought up, Madam Pomfrey gets Obliviated. You know how ghost discrimination is. No-one believes them, so you wouldn't be able to tell. The only way we're able to get away is through the Shrieking Shack."

They planned to run away with Ronald. They left in the dead of night, headed towards the Burrow. Peeves ensured Molly didn't contact Albus. Something had never sat right with Molly about that man, and seeing Harry's wounds had upset her deeply. She couldn't imagine anyone doing that to a child. Even Ginevra had backed off, and with her help, Harry and Hermione had dyed their hair ginger.

And if Dumbledore never checked the Burrow, well, Peeves took great pleasure in watching Fawkes leave, and slowly, the old coot became more alienated until one day, Curse Breaker William Weasley managed to destroy Voldemort using an ancient spell he'd learnt in Egypt, annihilating the remnants of his soul, and severing Tom Marvolo Riddle from the mortal coil permanently.


End file.
